And I Grow Older
by Kathey27
Summary: This is how the story goes. / Or, I can never breathe around you. Is what you don't say. You leave before you can embarrass yourself further.


**A/N: Not much to say about this one except it's based off of a prompt table. I wrote it all in two hours, sad from fanfiction and high off of the fact that Clint's getting a farm.**

**Non-linear of course.**

**Summary: This is how the story goes. / Or, **_**I can never breathe around you. **_**Is what you don't say. You leave before you can embarrass yourself further.**

**Disclaimer: I own nada, **_**duh.**_

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><p><strong>and i grow older:<strong>

**01 – Hide**

Phil finds you, after. Ghosts his fingers through your hair and pulls you to him. The chair is small, wobbly and can only hold so much weight.

You pull him closer. _Please don't leave me._

His lips against your temple are phantom touch; there and not there.

You hear Nat's voice, calling for you outside the door. You turn away and burrow further into your dead lover's arms.

* * *

><p><strong>02 – A Close Shave<strong>

This sink was not designed to hold two people. You tell him this even as you run more water over the dull razor.

He doesn't respond so you tilt his chin upwards, run a smooth line down his throat. He swallows and the air thins.

* * *

><p><strong>03 – Caress<strong>

His touch is soft, warm, grounding. Takes away from the pain in your legs, your hands, your spine.

You can't hear him over the noise in your own head but his hands you lean into.

It's a good day as any to die.

* * *

><p><strong>04 – Want<strong>

You turn over in your cot, fist your hands into the blanket and watch the slow and steady fall of his chest.

Heat curls into the bottom of your belly, hot and vicious. You're close enough that you could just reach over and – no.

You turn over and go to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>05 – Answer<strong>

The man in the suit sitting across from you has a kind face. A simple face, one that allows for people to look over him. It's a nice face.

You look down at your cooling coffee, at the absence of a gun in his suit jacket and say yes.

* * *

><p><strong>06 – Invasion<strong>

Coulson's office is small and cut off and has one really uncomfortable sofa.

You make it a point to sit in it every day until he changes the locks.

You use the vents then.

* * *

><p><strong>07 – Companion<strong>

You sit with him once it is over. Once all the bodies have been taken away and the blood has been washed out.

You sit with him, shoulders pressed together and you help him ride out the guilt.

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><p><strong>08 – Pass<strong>

You watch him. The way he takes his coffee, how he holds his gun, how he laughs with his eyes. The soft curve of his lips, the tightness in his shoulders, the hollow look his face sometimes takes.

You don't want to miss your chance with him. You don't want to look back and wonder _why didn't I ever lean a little bit closer?_

You press the back of your hand to his and wait. Soon.

* * *

><p><strong>09 – Weapon<strong>

You're not spying on Coulson. You're _not._

It's not your fault the only time you get to watch him uninterrupted is in the range. From a safe distance of course. In the vents. Whatever. Details.

You watch as he takes apart a gun in less than five seconds and you hunger.

* * *

><p><strong>10 – Blow<strong>

His hands trace the bruise softly, slowly. Take care in a way no one in medical has ever thought to.

You don't mean to but you lean into his hands anyways. He lets you.

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><p><strong>11 – Natural<strong>

Waking up next to Phil is never going to be something you get used to.

You watch as he wipes sleep from his face, the way his hair sticks up and how the pillow has a slight damp spot where his mouth had been.

You press your head against his chest and close your eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>12 – Complete <strong>

The first time he touches you in a way other than friendly your mind makes the automatic shift from Coulson to Phil.

You lean into his hands, push your own up his shirt and ignore the clicking in your chest.

You are home.

* * *

><p><strong>13 – Blizzard <strong>

The Russian winters are unforgiving and brutal. Steal your breath away and leave you empty and hollow.

The sight of his red nose and thin lips makes warmth bloom within you.

You turn away from him and face the storm.

* * *

><p><strong>14 – Deaf<strong>

You watch his lips take shape, the way the words come out slower than usual and how careful he is not to face away from you.

You track his movements and fall in love.

* * *

><p><strong>15 – Funeral<strong>

You stand to the back and watch as Phil's mom accepts the flag presented. Watch as Nick Fury acting as Marcus Johnson talks about a man so few knew.

You stand to the back and watch as he's lowered to the ground.

You walk away and don't look back.

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><p><strong>16 – Lament<strong>

You bring the Black Widow in and as Coulson turns away from you, you grieve for a man that was never yours.

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><p><strong>17 – Change<strong>

His back is a roadmap of scars, like your own. They intersect and overlap and run into each other into a pattern that both makes you sick and makes you want to touch him.

You pull the clothes out of his reach and bring him back into you.

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><p><strong>18 – Bored<strong>

Coulson, despite popular belief, has a horrible poker face.

You take advantage of this and cheat as much as possible. He snorts, kicks at your feet and lets you get away with it.

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><p><strong>19 – Engage<strong>

There is a band, at the bottom of your duffle bag that you carry everywhere for two years.

It's light, silver and glints in the sunlight.

It never gets to leave the bottom of your duffle bag.

* * *

><p><strong>20 – Float<strong>

The water is cool against your skin and offers a distraction from how good Phil looks, barely two feet from you.

His head is thrown back, neck exposed and although this can't last, although you'll both have to go back in a few hours, this right here is nice.

You swim over to him and take his hand.

* * *

><p><strong>21 – Steal<strong>

You only take one thing from his closet, before S.H.I.E.L.D. comes in and sweeps in all up in one big gulp.

It's a sweater, soft, warm with holes in three different spots. It's the same sweater he had been wearing the first time you ever saw him outside of base, the same sweater he was wearing the first time you took his hand in your and it's the same sweater he was wearing the night before Loki tore him from you.

You take it and keep it in the back of your dresser.

* * *

><p><strong>22 – Lick<strong>

It should be illegal for Coulson to look as good as he does right now.

It's just not fair honestly.

The strip of bare skin his suit just barely exposes on his neck is sinful.

You bite down your tongue and look away.

* * *

><p><strong>23 – Reminisce<strong>

His hands fall down your spine, over your back. Press into you as he whispers stories into your ear.

You lean your head against the pillow and listen more about the boy with too big dreams and wide eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>24 – Smuggle <strong>

Coulson catches you. Obviously.

This isn't what it looks like. You say even as you back away from him, arms cradling the small kitten in your hands.

He's very unimpressed and makes you bring her back down to the labs.

He lets you visit her one week later and you blow him a kiss so scandalize the lab technician blushes.

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><p><strong>25 – Sick<strong>

You are not sick. You _aren't_.

You blow your nose into the over used tissue and ignore the amused look Coulson sends your way.

Go home. He says. Come back when you can breathe properly.

_I can never breathe around you_. Is what you don't say.

You leave before you can embarrass yourself further.

* * *

><p><strong>26 – Needle <strong>

You fight the hold. You thrash and kick and scream until your throat feels raw.

The light is blinding and unfamiliar, gloved hands are trying to push you down and you won't let them. You won't let them have you.

It isn't until he's there, until he presses his hand against your forehead that you can break through the fever long enough to whimper. You press your skin harder against his and focus on his touch.

The pinch in your arm is sharp and you can vaguely hear him tell you that you're safe before the darkness pulls you down.

* * *

><p><strong>27 – Prevention<strong>

Your face is bright red as Fury stands behind his desk, a battered but unopened box of condoms in his hands.

You look down and away as your boss tells you off because _if you stupid fuckers are going to be screwing each other in my building as least have the common sense to use these._

You keep your mouth shut and don't have the nerve to tell him that those are Sitwell's.

* * *

><p><strong>28 – Slick<strong>

Phil's body against yours feels like heaven.

His skin glistens with sweat and you press your lips wherever you can reach, wherever he lets you.

You cling onto him and lose yourself in his touch.

* * *

><p><strong>29 – Memory<strong>

You burn all the pictures except one.

You destroy every physical piece of evidence that Phil was ever more to you than a co-worker and you do it with a blank face and shivering heart.

The one picture to survive is a wrinkled, five year old thing. In it your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into your side and his smile is wide enough to blind someone, carefree and loving.

You tuck it into your pocket and that's where it stays.

* * *

><p><strong>30 – Ocean<strong>

You ask him once, high off of sex and love.

Press yourself into his back and lean your lips against the nape of his neck and you ask _would you find me? If I was at the bottom of the ocean?_

He turns to you, confused and horny and kisses the sadness off your mouth.

_I'd find you anywhere._

* * *

><p><strong>31 – Break<strong>

You leave the moment his body is in the ground. Once you know his affairs are settled and his mom is going to be taken care of. Once you know that Nat has Stark and Rogers watching her back you leave.

Phil had been your ending and you need to find a new beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>32 – Frozen<strong>

His ghost follows you.


End file.
